


out of the shadows

by aquaexplicit



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Blood Drinking, But is unaware Reverb has plans to make him an eternal bride, But that's what the dubcon/noncon warnings are for, Cisco happily consents to fangbanging his vamp self, Comeplay, Doppelcest, Dubious Consent, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reverb is just gonna cross that bridge when he gets to it, Selfcest, Souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaexplicit/pseuds/aquaexplicit
Summary: “This got way gayer way quicker than I thought it would,” Francisco says. “I mean, I assumed it was gonna get pretty gay but. Not this fast.”Reverb runs his nails along Francisco’s jaw, stopping just below his ear. “Would you like to wait, then?”“No,” Francisco says, certain, grabbing Reverb’s wrist. “No, I don’t want to wait. I want you to show me.”(the dracula!revibe au i can say some people actually did ask for)





	out of the shadows

**Author's Note:**

> reverb is dracula. cisco is his reincarnated soul. reverb is predictably weird and gay about it. there is biting, blood drinking, vampire sex, and references to reverb being an evil violent bad guy in the past.
> 
> i saw dracula!revibe and rilo, thecowboyarthistorian, and darknessandterrorandkittens told me to do it. so this is their fault <333

One of the most striking differences between them, Reverb thinks, besides the fact that Francisco carries their soul beneath his tender skin, is their scent. Francisco is cradled in softness - the curls that fall gentle at his collar, the flesh warm with joy and life, the heart that beats true enough for both of them. But the scent that clings to him is even softer. Sweet, almost, though something to be savored. Dark chocolate rich and sharp.

“It’s lavender mint,” Francisco says as Reverb noses against his temple, learning the particular flavor of his hair. His voice is breathy but doesn’t shake the way it did the first time Reverb leaned in to inhale him. The undercurrent of nerves has gentled. It’s almost all curiosity now.

“There’s something else.” Reverb is sure to brush his lips over Francisco’s hair, gentle enough that it could be an accident. The bob of Francisco’s adam’s apple is a sure sign that he isn’t fooled. Reverb smiles. “Something of the earth.”

“Oh. Uh. That’s probably the tea tree oil. It’s what makes my soft hair game so strong.”

Reverb’s instinct is to draw his fingers through the curls, allow the tips of his nails, sharp as daggers, to coax blood to the surface of Francisco’s skin. He doesn’t. He waits, and as always, Francisco rewards his patience by leaning beautifully into his desire. Francisco reaches for his hand.

“Feel.”

“Lovely,” Reverb says, petting through his soul’s locks. He never allowed his hair to grow this long. It’s quite striking.

“You know all your compliments are creepily narcissistic.” Francisco tilts into his touch.

Rupture has made similar comments regarding Reverb’s interest in his reincarnation. Obsession, Rupture has called it. Stalking Francisco across oceans, across lands younger than their very bones, prepared to strike his soul back to Hell only for Francisco to capture him completely. Reverb ignores Francisco as he’s ignored Rupture for centuries.

“Only on the surface are we the same. We are reflections, Francisco, above the skin. Not beneath it.”

Reverb emphasizes his point by drawing his touch down Francisco’s neck. His skin is so soft, golden from the sun and the fresh blood pumping warm underneath. It would split so easily under Reverb’s teeth. It would welcome Reverb’s sharpness, open to Reverb’s hunger.

Francisco shivers. Reverb watches in fascination as goosebumps bloom. “I thought you said we had the same power?”

“You are as powerful as I am,” Reverb corrects. His meanings get lost in Francisco’s tick tack mind. When he first came to America, lulled by the pull of his soul, he hadn’t spoken English for years. He and Rupture still spoke in the language of their people, dead as they were now. “As strong. But not in the same way. I am the push. You are the pull.”

Reverb rests his palm over Francisco’s frantic heart. It is the beat of spring, not of fear. There is awe and sweet and that lovely desire to know. There is hesitation. But there is not denial.

“Do you understand?”

“I’m the ying, you’re the yang,” Francisco says. He’s smiling that eager, guileless smile, the closest thing to sunshine Reverb has felt in years. It warms his skin. Boils his blood. Reverb smiles back, flashing his fangs. “It’s very 90’s.”

Francisco’s strength is not quite an inversion of Reverb’s own. The bluntest teeth of ruthlessness gnaw just below Francisco’s surface - Reverb has seen it as he’s watched Francisco in his grad school study groups, in his interactions when he’s tired and too far pushed and pulled thin enough to snap. But it is tempered by hope. A seemingly endless optimism that humanity will meet the golden expectations Francisco carries.

There is something bright in Francisco that makes other want to meet those standards. Reverb has seen this as well. Has recognized the power Francisco carries to change the very souls of human filth. Reverb has enough experience to know that Francisco will always be disappointed.

“So, what else?” Francisco presses. So many questions. Endless. Reverb wonders how many centuries would pass before either of them tired of that earnest need to know. “You said we smelled different. And obviously there’s the whole I’m alive and have a soul and don’t suck blood thing. But what else is different about me?”

Reverb pretends to consider it. He uses the time to run his palm from Francisco’s heart to his shoulder, down his arm, from gentle t-shirt to even gentler skin.

“Your light,” Reverb says honestly. “Even alive, they said I was a child who carried darkness. You, though. You radiate light.”

Francisco frowns. “They who?”

“My people. Fellow villagers, neighboring tribes. My parents.” Reverb curls his fingers too harshly into the beckoning give of Francisco’s skin. Francisco tenses but doesn’t pull away. How good he is, Reverb thinks, suddenly aching to reward him.

But Francisco has more questions.

“What did they mean?”

Reverb tilts his head. He thought he’d communicated this. He attempts again. “Do you remember the story I told you? Of how I was turned? Of how I saved my people with my newfound power?”

“When you slaughtered all the explorers who came to your village,” Francisco says, putting the story in much different terms than Reverb would. “I remember that story. It was very graphic.”

“I saved their very way of life, and they feared me. They said it was the darkness that I carried, finally coming to light. They were not wrong.”

“About the darkness?” Francisco asks. There is a beat, a flick down of his eyes before he meets Reverb’s gaze again. “Or fearing you?”

“You have nothing to fear, my soul. I will never let harm come to you.”

“I don’t need your protection,” Francisco insists, but he’s smiling, not shy, not open. Just sweet, just delicious and beckoning all of Reverb’s cruelty, and oh, Francisco does need protection. Needs diamond armor and wards worked into his skin and someone with blood thirst to watch over him. Keep his light from being dimmed.

“I still offer it.”

Francisco looks at Reverb’s hand, resting sure over his own, and slides his lower lip between his teeth. It is only the self discipline of centuries that keeps Reverb from tugging it between his own.

“Can you protect me from myself?”

“I told you, I will not hurt you.” Not in any way that Francisco will not learn to enjoy. Not in any way that Francisco will not come to crave. Beg for. “You are my soul. My angel.”

“No, I don’t - I’m not scared of you. I trust you.”

If Reverb still breathed, he’s sure his breath would have stuttered. There is such earnestness in Francisco’s voice, in the soft pink of his smile. Even Rupture had not given him such faith so freely, not for years. Not until their people and language and knowledge had decayed into the earth and those souls that remained regarded them as Gods.

Francisco will shine as a God with them. He is right to trust Reverb. No one else can protect him, adore him, give him all that he deserves.

“What are you afraid of?” Reverb urges gently. He doesn’t slip into hypnotism; not that it works on his reincarnation, anyway. But he doesn’t need to resort to cheap tricks. Francisco opens to him easily. Beautifully.

“I’ve been told I'm not exactly great at taking care of myself,” Francisco says, hint of a smile that is far too melancholy. “Which I used to think was just my parents way of trying to keep me in the suburbs. Lock me up in Central City Tech, keep me away from the city and from learning. But lately I’ve been thinking…maybe they weren’t so far off.”

Reverb doesn’t miss the way Francisco watches his mouth.

“I keep wondering,” Francisco breathes. The softness of it curls at the base of Reverb’s spine, pressing him further into Francisco’s space. Reverb can feel Francisco’s desire in his bones. He already knows what Francisco wants, that it reflects in mortal limitation his own yearning.

“Tell me, angel.” Francisco closes his eyes at the endearment. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“What did it feel like?”

Reverb turns Francisco’s hand, wrist towards the ceiling, kissing the tender flesh with the tips of his nails. He can hear the pant of Francisco’s heart, smell the rush of blood that flushes Francisco with desire. Reverb bites back his own lust and slides the hand not on Francisco’s back to his neck, stroking his knuckles over the pulse.

“Being bitten?” Reverb asks, whispering against Francisco’s ear. He’s so close to learning what he tastes like and as badly as he wants, as desperate as he is for the first time in centuries, he needs a few more moments. To let the anticipation simmer, to watch Francisco ache in it. They will only have this first taste once.

“Dying.”

Reverb yanks back as if Francisco’s skin has been slicked with holy water. His soul recognizes his distress and attempts to calm him. Steady human hands come to grip his shoulders.

“I don’t want to die,” Francisco assures him quickly. “I mean, I used to listen to a lot of Evanescence but that was an aesthetic thing, I was never depressed enough to ever want to, you know. I’m not asking you to Kevorkian me.”

Reverb frowns, not at all assured by Francisco’s frantic words. “I don’t know what that means. Why would you - ”

“It’s the ultimate question,” Francisco interrupts. “I mean, isn’t it? What’s it like to die? What does it feel like, what do you see, what happens after?”

Reverb wants to shake him. Throw him across his studio apartment from the couch to the bed and thoroughly make him forget any questions that don’t have to do with their skin.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“You didn’t,” Reverb assures him, although he’s not sure what the phrase means exactly and isn’t convinced that Francisco didn’t.

“I just - vampires are real. Everything I’ve been taught by nuns and biology is totally shook. And I can’t stop thinking about it. And I know you would never hurt me, but there are - vampires are real! What if I meet another one? What if I - ”

Even the idea of another vampire setting eyes on his soul makes Reverb growl. He mirrors Francisco’s grip on his shoulder but digs his fingers in deeper, drawing a gasp from Francisco’s full lips, flashing another rush of blood through him.

“No one touches you,” Reverb tells him. “If you are so curious, I can show you. I can show you everything, Francisco. You need only ask me.”

Francisco blinks. Bites his lip again. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

The smallness of Francisco’s voice, the sweetness of his perceived rejection, eases Reverb’s anger. He pets his palms to Francisco’s chest, watching in satisfaction as Francisco calms beneath his touch.

“I do not have to hurt you. I can bite you, bring you to the edge of this world, push you against the edge of another. I do not have to bring you pain to do any of this.”

“I thought… It just seems like a thing that would hurt. The biting. The brink of death.”

Reverb cups Francisco’s cheek. Francisco doesn’t flinch, doesn’t startle. His eyes flutter closed and he tilts, whether he knows it or not, baring all of his vulnerability.

“It can,” Reverb admits, recalling the horror of his own death. Of Rupture’s death at his teeth. The memories are never far. “But there can also be great pleasure.”

Francisco opens his eyes. His pupils are oil slick. He is going to give himself completely. Reverb runs his tongue along his fangs and indulges in the heat of soon to be spilled blood.

“This got way gayer way quicker than I thought it would,” Francisco says. “I mean, I assumed it was gonna get pretty gay but. Not this fast.”

Reverb runs his nails along Francisco’s jaw, stopping just below his ear. “Would you like to wait, then?”

“No,” Francisco says, certain, grabbing Reverb’s wrist. “No, I don’t want to wait. I want you to show me.”

Reverb kisses him without teeth, at first. He takes the mouth of his soul as gently as he can. Francisco deserves tenderness as much as he deserves devastation, and Reverb will adorn him as richly as he craves.

They learn each other slowly. Languid and open. Francisco is as curious in this as he is in anything; his tongue flicks like a question mark, his teeth tug with experiment. Reverb lets him explore until his own thirst threatens to split him whole.

Francisco chases his mouth when Reverb breaks the kiss. Reverb laughs, no mockery, and takes in the beatific soft of Francisco’s face.

“Undress,” Reverb says. “And lie on the bed.”

It takes a moment for Francisco to open his eyes. “Should I get a towel?”

“What?”

“For the blood,” Francisco says. “And the - whatever else.”

Reverb relishes in the heat of Francisco’s cheeks. He strokes the warmth there with his tongue, enjoying Francisco’s shiver, then licks back into his mouth before answering.

“You will spill nothing tonight that I will not taste,” Reverb promises. “Nothing will be wasted.”

“Holy shit, that was so hot. And so creepy. How can you be so creepy and so hot at the same time?”

Reverb kisses him again. It’s clear Francisco would allow this until both of their mouths were bruised and bloody. Reverb tucks the idea away for another moment in the endless night that stretches ahead of them.

The next time Reverb slides away, Francisco stands. He moves to the bed and Reverb remains still, drinking in every moment. Francisco undresses slowly. It’s odd, the reveal of flesh that is both his and not his. There are no scars on Francisco’s skin. He is smooth, soft, untouched by the horror of this world. Reverb will keep him this way.

When every inch is bared to Reverb’s hunger, Reverb stands. He watches Francisco stand tall, no fear, only anticipation and open mouthed need. Reverb doesn’t touch him. Not yet. Not until he’s dropped his leather, not until he’s leeching the body heat from Francisco’s skin.

Reverb runs his palms over Francisco’s arms first. Francisco shudders but Reverb can read the want. He can smell it.

“Lie down,” Reverb repeats, and feels a satisfaction he hasn’t in a lifetime when Francisco obeys.

Reverb begins at the tender arch of Francisco’s feet. He listens to the sharp intake of breath as he presses kisses to the skin. The buzz of life and need reverberates on his tongue. He smiles against Francisco’s ankle, letting himself drift to those early days of his unlife. How he made the world shake with the horror of his enemies. How the air shook with their screams. How his name evolved over years of being feared and worshiped but Reverb was always the one he felt the deepest.

Fingers tug at his hair. “Patience,” he says. But he gives in. It’s been so long since he’s even been tempted. He’s earned the indulgence. Francisco has as well.

The rest of his journey is quicker. He has lifetimes to learn every inch of sensitive skin. He has only one moment to give Francisco this gift for the first time. It will be perfect for both of them.

Reverb drags his aching mouth over Francisco’s calf. The tender spot behind his knee. Quivering thighs that are at once firm and soft and will be lovely under bruises, under bite marks Reverb won’t let fade. He presses his lips to the curves of Francisco’s ribs, smiling when Francisco laughs. Francisco’s chuckle fades into heavy pants as Reverb kisses over Francisco’s chest.

“Tease,” Francisco accuses. There’s no heat in it.

Reverb smirks. “My angel,” he says, kissing Francisco’s collar bone. “My soul.” He brushes his mouth over Francisco’s chin. “You have no idea.”

It’s Francisco that pulls him into a kiss, deep and desperate. It’s Francisco that grips his hips and urges him to shift, slide against him. They moan in unison and in timber. Francisco’s entire body is hot as blood. Soft as silk. A sin, if anything is, and Reverb’s favorite by far.

“M’ready,” Francisco assures him. “Reverb. Francisco.”

Reverb buries his face in Francisco’s neck. So long. It’s been so long since he’s heard that name. Even Rupture still calls him by his childhood nickname. Hearing it does more to Reverb inside than he thought it would and his fangs slide out, ready, aching.

He curls his hands in Francisco’s hair. Francisco thrusts up against him, rutting just for pleasure, pure and sweet in his pursuit. They slide slick together. It’s a reckless harmony that teases Reverb’s lifelong hunger.

“Please. Do it, I’m ready, make me feel it. Please.”

It’s less begging, more demand, but it drags Reverb all the same. He kisses Francisco with fury first, then slides his fangs into Francisco’s neck.

Francisco howls. He curses and screams and comes all over both of them, sloppy and beautiful. He doesn’t stop rubbing himself into Reverb’s own body, even as Reverb pulls hot mouthful after mouthful from his veins.

The taste. The spice and the sweet and the absolute pleasure. It’s more than Reverb has ever known. More overwhelming than Reverb’s first taste of blood. More filling. For the first time since he was alive, since he was dead, Reverb feels full. Limbs and belly and mind bursting with everything he’s ever wanted. All the power. All the life.   

Reverb can feel his soul. He can taste it, he can smell it, he can sense the light growing stronger and stronger inside of him. Francisco doesn’t seem to dim beneath him. He keeps moving his hips, keeps urging Reverb to thrust against him, keeps pressing Reverb’s fangs deeper into his skin. It’s as if Francisco wants Reverb to drink his very marrow. Reverb doesn’t want to deny him.

It’s difficult to maintain his focus. He wants to glut himself. He wants to pull away and let Francisco’s blood flow into his mouth, flow over their skin so Reverb can lap at it like a heathen before feeding it back to Francisco, tongue to tongue. He wants to drink until he can never drink again.

He allows himself for as long as he can. Eventually Francisco’s wild movements slow. The strength of his heart beat becomes sluggish. Reverb knows the exact moment death dark begins to close in. He can recall with intimacy the slip from shadow to night, when it will unfurl, and when to pull away.

It’s an ache to ease from Francisco’s blood. He licks the wounds closed, other needs forgotten as he swallows the last trickles of life.

He leaves a slippery trail in his journey to Francisco’s mouth. Francisco kisses back, weak, licking delicately at Reverb’s teeth. Reverb groans and lets him, lets him taste himself, taste them, then sucks Francisco’s tongue clean. He licks every last drop from Francisco’s mouth, his skin, keeping his promise true.

“Fuck,” Francisco moans. It’s watery thin and wobbling. Satisfied. Reverb kisses his throat, dragging himself against Francisco’s hip. “Think - I think I saw God. Did you come?”

“Not yet, angel.”

“Oh.” Francisco paws weakly at his hips. His grip keeps slipping. He pouts and Reverb licks it into another groan.

Reverb takes himself in hand. He drinks in the sight of his soul, debauched, glowing, and it tastes just as delicious as Francisco’s blood. A thousand years will pass and Reverb will shake at this beauty. He knows it.

He adds to the mess Francisco made between them, groaning deeply at the sight. Staying true to his word he slips down Francisco’s body, sucking and licking until Francisco’s is slick but clean.

“C’mere. Lemme taste too.”

Francisco’s voice is slurred. His hands open and close, grabbing and bratty and not even reaching Reverb, and it’s endearing as it is amusing. Reverb gives his soul exactly what he asks for.

When they’re sated, Reverb falls next to Francisco’s body. He watches Francisco’s chest move shallow. His heart beat is low but steady. Reverb drug him to the brink of death, but brought him back in time.

“Is your curiosity fulfilled?” Reverb teases, knowing Francisco’s thirst is as bottomless as his own.

“Uh-uh,” Francisco says sleepily. “That was… the hottest thing that ever happened to me. And the coolest. And the most awesome.”

Reverb smiles at the babbling. He brushes his mouth over Francisco’s forehead. Francisco curls into him, spent, trusting. Reverb could turn him now. It would be so easy to feed him Reverb’s blood. Reverb could ease him through the change, take him from this idiotic place and to their home where he’ll be worshiped the way he should be.

But he won’t. Not tonight.

“Do you believe in love at first bite?” Francisco murmurs into his shoulder.

Reverb smiles again, indulgent. Definitely not tonight.

“Think I’m high.”

“An after effect of the feeding,” Reverb explains, kissing the top of his head. “And of me making you come your brains out.”

Francisco snuggles closer into him. “S’like that with everyone?”

“No. You wouldn’t feel this way with anyone else.”

“What about you?”

There’s a hint of jealousy, Reverb can sense it, and the bite of want stings in his skin again. He wants to dive back in. Make Francisco spill and bleed and come until he can’t even string a sentence together.

“Never,” Reverb assures him. “Now rest. You’ll need your strength.”

“We going again?” Despite Francisco’s weakness, he sounds eager.

We will never stop, Reverb is tempted to say. But as deeply as Francisco desires him, Francisco is too young and too tender to know the depth of Reverb’s ache. The prospect of forever will no doubt frighten him. Reverb will ease him into eternity.

“After you sleep.”

“Sweet.”

It only takes a few deep breaths before sleep claims him. Reverb watches him, as he’s watched him many nights, though this is the first night Francisco is aware of his presence. He continues petting through Francisco's hair. Rupture will be pacing the manor they've taken, but he can wait. Reverb won't leave his soul tonight.  

Reverb won't ever leave him again.


End file.
